


Love, Love, Love (Things I hate about you)

by Kelsey_Jaybird



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Backstory, Character Study, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fluff, High School, M/M, Pining, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelsey_Jaybird/pseuds/Kelsey_Jaybird
Summary: "I hate the way I don't hate you, not even close, not even a little, not even at all."Flash Thompson tells himself he hates Peter Parker. If only it were that simple.A character study of the latest iteration of Peter Parker's greatest foe and Spiderman's greatest ally and an unlikely romance. Flash x Peter pairing.Based partly on 10 Things I Hate About You.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was surprised by the lack of fics for this pairing after the new movie came out and decided "hey, be the change". I never thought that phrase would apply for Spiderman fanfiction, but here we are. I used a combination of new movie Flash and classic Flash for my characterization in this piece, and I think it meshes well. This is probably the most romantic thing I've ever written and I hope you guys like it. 
> 
> Obviously inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You, but also inspired by music. This section took a lot of inspiration from "Love love love" by Of Monsters and Men.

_I hate the way you (don’t) talk to me_

Peter doesn’t talk to him anymore.

Flash remembers talking to Peter on his first day of school at Midtown. In addition to learning where his locker was going to be and the best spots for mid-day power naps, Flash learned a lot about Peter. He won’t admit to remembering it. Peter Parker grew up in Queens in a working-class neighborhood, he has a pun problem puns and he rides the bus to school. Elementary school sucked for Peter and middle school was worse. He usually has a spare snack in the third pocket on the front of his backpack. His eyes are pretty. Maybe as pretty as a girl’s. When Peter asked Flash about himself and offered him a granola bar, Flash scoffed and told Peter he “isn’t a charity case”, but took the snack anyways.

Flash grew up in Manhattan, he hates English with a burning passion and his mother drove him to school every morning in her brand-new Porsche. Sometimes his father drove him in the Mercedes. Elementary school was spent with other doctor’s kids and lawyer’s kids and a few actor’s kids and middle school was worse. Middle class among the rich, Flash learned to attack or be attacked. Strength came from picking out the weak and reminding the bigger predators that you weren’t like them. Flash let Peter talk to him for a few days before nailing down a nickname and striking. Peter’s eyes welled up but he didn’t cry. He was too used to this by now. Peter grabbed his books and left, some dork in a Star Wars shirt chasing after him to offer words of comfort only the outcast knew. Flash vowed never to learn them.

Peter’s eyes are still pretty and Peter doesn’t talk to him anymore.

 

****

 

_And the way you cut your hair_

 

Flash has his mother’s hair and his brother has his dad’s. His sister’s hair was all her own. Flash’s hair is thick and wavy, like obsidian. He heard that Michelle chick say that you could see your reflection in Flash’s hair. Flash knew it was meant to be a crack at the amount of hair gel he used, but his mother’s hair was shiny, just like his. Years in a country that beat her down and tried to stop her from achieving her dreams  never wrecked her spirit. Or her hair. It grew thick, shiny and strong. Just like her. And Flash tried to make his do the same.

Peter’s hair was soft. Too soft, like it would break if you touched it. Flash wants to. He wants to so badly, but he sticks to shoulder-checking him in the hallway. Peter never cut his hair until he had to, not until 10th grade when he started noticing Liz. After that, he started gelling it. Not that Flash noticed. Not that Flash knew they used the same products because he watched Peter get ready after gym class.

He doesn’t watch Peter.

He doesn’t see Peter trying to keep his hair out of his eyes, struggling with the dual task of pushing back his bangs and getting his books into his backpack. He’s not doing well. It’s summer and his hair is sticking to his forehead, just a little bit. He’s gotta do something.

“Hey, Parker!”

Peter looks up from stuffing his books into his worn out bag and sighs. His hair falls in front of his eyes. “Yeah, Flash?” He has to push it backs so Flash can see his dismay. Flash swallows.

“You should cut your hair. You look like you got rejected from One Direction.”

“Really Flash?” Peter sighs. “That’s the best you can do?”

“Well, I thought calling you a dirty hippy was too cliché and I wasn’t sure if you’d know who the Ramones are so….” Flash trails off. Peter is raising an eyebrow at him.

“Of course I know who the Ramones are, Pinhead.”

Flash almost slams Peter into the lockers but realizes that he’s making a joke. “Yeah, well you talk like you had a teenage lobotomy.”

Peter almost smiles. Almost. He clearly thinks about his next wisecrack, but stops and sighs. “I’m going to be late for class.”

“Whatever man,” a song about wanting to be his boyfriend dances on his tongue, but he says instead “I’ll be glad to see you go, Parker.”

“Yeah, sure Flash.”

Flash doesn’t watch him go.

Peter cuts his hair after school the next day. It looks less soft with all the products the stylist put in it, and Flash hates it. Maybe in a few months, when it grows back, he’ll be able to work up the nerve to touch it. Maybe this is a reason not to.

But Flash can see Peter’s eyes now. They’re so pretty. So maybe he doesn’t hate it that much.

 

****

 

_I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare_

 

Flash learned to drive as soon as he could. His parents took on more hours at the clinic and the hospital, likely to prepare for his brother’s next degree. They’re well off, yeah, but Ralph got into a master’s program and couldn’t work through school like he did for his bachelors. Ralph is Flash’s hero. He’s never told him that.

Flash got his license on his first try and started driving himself to school the next day. He offered to drive Jesse to school too, but she refused. She loved taking the bus with her friends, and she was just at the stage where her older siblings were dorky. It hurts more than Flash lets on.

He tells his friends it’s because he doesn’t want to get up early. Flash doesn’t tell people a lot of things. Like he didn’t tell his dad Spider-man wrecked his car. It just wouldn’t be right. Spider-man is a lot like Ralph.

One Thursday Flash catches Peter running for the bus, a trail of papers flying out of his backpack behind him. Rain streams from the sky and Peter’s clothes stick to him. Fat raindrops soak his homework and Peter looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Flash almost speeds up. Almost.

He pulls over, parking right in the bus lane. “Parker!” He yells. Peter doesn’t hear him. “Peter!” Still nothing. “Hey! Penis! Penis Parker!” This gets a reaction. Peter glares up at him through his hair and Flash waves him over to the car. Peter shakes his head. “Come on Penis Parker! Get in!”

“I’m not getting in there if you keep calling me that!”

“You didn’t respond to Peter!” Flash protests, but Peter is already by his window. Peter’s faster than he looks.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, more venom in his voice than usual. Flash is taken back.

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted a ride home.” He says, quietly. He tries to smile at Peter, show that he’s sincere. Peter’s gaze softens, but he still looks cold and pissed. Peter has no reason to get in with him. He knows that. “I promise I’ll call you Peter the whole time.”

Peter sighs, looking up at the sky with a “why me?” expression. He opens the passenger seat and tosses his bag in the back.

“What about your homework?” Flash asks, eyeing the now pulpy math problems littering the ground.

“I’ll get a copy from Ned.” Peter says. “I just want to go home.”

“No problem.” Flash puts on the radio and the drive stretches silently on. Peter stares out the window, only talking to offer directions. Flash follows.

Finally, Peter says, “I thought your car got wrecked.”

“This is a rental, Peter.”

“Oh.” Peter looks away. “I guess that’s why you’re letting me drip on your leather seats then.”

“I’d let you drip on any of my seats,” Flash blurts, awkwardly and too informative and slightly too loud. Peter stares at him. Flash squirms, almost missing a turn. He feels his cheeks burn and stares that the road. He likes Peter’s attention a little too much. “I mean, I’d help you out whenever. I know I can be a dick at school, but I wouldn’t let you get pneumonia.”

“I’m sorry,” says Peter, “I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t worry.” Flash interrupts.

After a few moments of silence, Peter blinks back tears and whispers, “My Uncle used to pick me up. Last year, he...he’s been gone a year.”

Flash nods. It explains why he’s been so snappy. He was like this last year too, right after the funeral. “That sucks man.” He says. Peter looks at the floor. “I know people say stuff like “I know how you feel” and like “it gets better” but I don’t know that. I don’t know if it will and I don’t know how much it hurts. But thanks for telling me. I’m sorry for your loss and I hope that at least today gets better.”

Flash stops. Peter says nothing and Flash’s heart pounds and his hands feel slippery. Peter just stares at him, watching Flash like he’s seeing him for the first time. He smiles a little.“Thanks man.” Peter says, finally.

“You’re welcome,” Flash says. Peter half-smiles the whole way home. Flash’s face burns and he pretends it’s just the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash hates Peter's t-shirts, puns and seeing his crush flirt with pretty girls. 
> 
> Flash isn't jealous of Peter, but he may need his help with English. Flash is definitely jealous of MJ, but he needs her to help him make sense of his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this one is a bit more dialogue heavy. I aimed to explore more of Flash's relationships at school, specifically with studying, Peter, and the students around him. I hope it wasn't too insufferable. This one was almost entirely in present tense, so if you hate present tense these aren't the chapters for you. I hope you enjoy!

_I hate your stupid t-shirts, And the way you read my mind_

Flash doesn’t watch Peter, but he hates his t-shirts.

Flash has always hated poetry, puns and wordplay. It’s not that he doesn’t get them, he just thinks they’re pointless. He likes science and math because they have so many real-world applications. He’s good at real-world applications. He’s good at connections, or so his dad says. So he flounders in English. Stories are okay, but his lowest grades are in English class poetry units.

Jesse is good at poetry. Where he sees connections in data she sees it in words. Her mind is so beautiful, but Flash doesn’t tell her that.

Flash doesn’t see why Peter has to combine science, something so pure, with puns, the lazy man’s witticism. Every week it seems like Peter has a different shirt, and Flash wants to take them off. Maybe burn them. Definitely not keep them. Peter likes them, and Flash ~~likes~~ prefers when Peter’s happy so he’s on top of his game at decathlon. So he tolerates them. Barely.

Flash and Peter share English class. In fact, Flash sits behind Peter, and occasionally kicks his chair. When the semester’s poetry unit starts Flash can’t suppress a groan. He actually liked Ender’s Game and was looking forward to reading Steven King’s short stories next. He should have read the syllabus better.

Peter turns around. “You got this, Eugene.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Whatever.” Peter rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying that it’s not going to be so bad. I know you hate poetry and puns and stuff….”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Let’s see: you just groaned, you kick my seat the most during our poetry units, you glare at my t-shirts like you want to set them on fire….”

“What of it?” Flash scoffs. Inwardly he’s surprised that Peter noticed all that. He wonders if Peter watches him. That would be creepy. Or not. Flash shifts in his chair.

“Look, you can pick writing a poem or an essay, right? Poetry essays are basically history. Read about the author and find parts of their work that talks about their life and stuff and then write about that.”

Flash finds himself writing down Peter’s advice. “Okay, so it’s like art history then.”

“Yeah, that’s it!” Peter smiles. “You’re smart enough to get this, Flash. It’ll be okay.”

Peter turns back around, focusing back on the lesson. Flash cannot focus anymore. No reason in particular.

 

****

 

  
_I hate you so much that it makes me sick, It even makes me rhyme_

Flash doesn’t do well with jealousy.

He loves his brother but when he was a kid he would get into screaming matches with Ralph because mom and dad praised him more. He adores his sister but she’s way too good at English and she has way more friends so sometimes he ignores her. He hates the way she frowns at him with watery eyes so he gives her his share of dessert. He likes Betty Brant okay but he considers sticking gum in her hair like a fourth grader when she tries to flirt with Peter. He loves Peter but if he keeps up the flirting Flash will have to call him worse nicknames than "Penis Parker".

“You’ve got it bad, dude.” Michelle Jones plops herself next to him on the bench. The cafeteria is full and bustling but Michelle chooses to sit with him, spreading her sketchbooks and first edition Mary Shelley’s across the table. Flash actually likes “MJ”, as she tells people to call her. She’s smart, but has a backbone and puts people in their place. So much like Peter, and yet his opposite.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Flash growls into an unimpressive grilled cheese.

MJ laughs. “Uh-huh. It couldn’t be that you look like you want to strangle Betty Brant, despite maybe only having talked to her once?” She nods over at Peter and Betty. The blond’s giggling now. Flash cringes.

“Are you saying I’m gay?”

“No, dude, don’t be so monosexualist. Pansexuality is a thing now, this isn’t the 80’s.”

Flash tries to glare at her, but he can’t. MJ smirks at him, sipping from her Marie Curry water bottle.

“How do you know I’m not mad at Peter for flirting with her?”

“Because you didn’t use any nicknames just now?” MJ raises an eyebrow. “You usually call him penis or something.” She grabs her sketchbook and flips through the pages before landing on a sketch of Flash staring at Peter. “This is you.”

She’s good, Flash thinks, before glancing back up again. Peter is trying to move away, likely in the direction of a cell-phone waving Ned, but Betty persists. Flash feels bile in his throat.

“Do you want to see the one I did of Peter?” MJ asks.

“No, MJ, that’s fine.” Flash sighs and watches Peter walk away, finally. Peter pauses to wave to them, but Flash knows he’s probably waving at MJ.

“It’s okay, Flash. No one is going to judge you for liking Peter.”

“I don’t like him, okay? I’m not pan or whatever, or gay.” MJ’s smirk grows. “You know that wasn’t meant to rhyme.”

“Maybe you’re a poet and you just don’t know it.” MJ pokes him with a pencil, adding to her sketch.

“Definitely. Just like Peter works for Tony Stark and you’re totally not afraid of the dark.”

“You’d be afraid too if you actually watched Stranger Things. And you did it again.”

Flash smiles at that. He wishes he was more like MJ. She’s confident enough in herself to admit to her fears, but Flash can’t. He won’t.

“He’ll never...I’m pretty sure he’s not into me.”

MJ shrugs. “You never know.”

Flash sighs. “Trust me MJ, I know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like English and hate math. I added a Stranger Things reference to get the English bashing out of my mouth, haha. Soundtrack to this one: "Creep" by Radiohead. I don't know if monosexualist is a thing but MJ is right, it isn't the 1980's. 
> 
> Edited for spelling on October 18th, 2017.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash hates that Peter's smart enough to figure out that he's crushing on him. He hates that Peter won't talk to him at all, he hates that Peter never runs out of dumb jokes and he hates that Peter might hate him just a little bit.
> 
> He doesn't hate Peter though, even after crying over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered breaking this one into two smaller chapters, but y'all have been loving this fic way more than I thought people would. Here's an extra long chapter for ya! You're welcome (sung like Dwayne Johnson).

_I hate the way you're always right_

 

Peter is really smart. Like, really smart. Flash sometimes forgets that when Peter wears those stupid t-shirts. Peter gets A’s in every class. Peter seems to know everything. He always seems to avoid the various science-related mishaps at Midtown. He knows how to fix most of those mishaps too. He’s great at decathlon. He’s good with people. He can read Flash and Ned and Michelle. Flash considers that impressive given their vast differences. Peter doesn’t have a lot of friends but he doesn’t have any enemies. Even the people Flash gets to call him “Penis Parker” don’t hate Peter. Flash suspects they just like saying “penis”.

Flash doesn’t always like this.

“You’re watching me,” Peter says after decathlon. Michelle overhears and leans in before Ned hauls her away by her backpack. Flash shoulders his backpack and tries to push past Peter.

 “You’re insane, Parker.” Flash scoffs. Peter dodges him and grabs his shoulder.

 “I can see you watching me Flash. I know you’re doing it. Like in gym, in decathlon, in class….”

 “What are you trying to say, Peter?” Flash says, angrier than he means to. “You’re in, like, all my classes. Am I supposed to ignore you?”

 “You stare at my hair. And my eyes. And you talk about my...” Peter blushes, “my genitals a lot. It’s weird, Flash.”

 “It’s a nickname, Parker. Stop reading into it.” Flash tries to leave. Peter’s hand on his shoulder is getting too warm.

 “It’s okay, Flash,” Peter says. “I’m not mad. I just...”

 Peter steps closer to Flash. He almost reaches out but puts his hand in his pocket. Flash sees something in Peter’s eyes that he isn’t sure he likes. He doesn’t recognize it. Peter gulps, staring deeply into his eyes. Flash moves closer, then away.

 “What, Peter? You just what?”

 “I don’t know, Flash.” Peter sighs. “I don’t know.”

 Flash shakes off his hand. “Then leave me alone, asshole.” He shoulder checks Peter into the locker, harder than usual. Peter’s body feels more solid than it usually does. Flash shudders and leaves, ignoring Peter calling him. He leaves the school, gets in his car, and screams.

 He hates Peter.

 He really, really does.

 

****

 

_I hate it when you lie_

Peter doesn’t talk to him the next day.

Flash isn’t hurt. It doesn’t matter. Peter is stupid.

Peter tries to talk to him a few times but doesn’t. Ned whispers something to Peter in gym and he nods while looking at Flash.

Peter is never on Facebook. He used to be, but since his Uncle passed away Peter is on maybe once a month. In one week Peter writes some passive aggressive shit about how he’s not sure where it went wrong or how to make it right, and then some dumb song lyrics about not wanting to hurt someone. Flash responds to one with an angry face but then deletes it.

Michelle asks Peter if something is wrong at lunch. Peter denies it.

Flash reads Sylvia Plath in front of the English class while looking everywhere but Peter. They refuse to speak to each other at decathlon. Abraham seems happier than usual due to Flash’s silence but MJ just looks annoyed. After the practice, Mr. Harrington takes both Flash and Peter aside and gives them a lecture about teamwork before stalking off back to his office. Peter looks at Flash, mumbles “I’m sorry for whatever I did”, and then walks away.

Peter doesn’t talk to him the day after that.

Peter is a fucking liar. Flash knows that now. He won’t tell anyone how he feels and he just pretends that he’s not in love or that he hates Flash and….

Flash takes a deep breath.

It’s not Peter’s fault.

It’s no one’s fault.

Flash is very, very good at denial.

It’s one thing he and Peter have in common. 

 

****

 

_I hate it when you make me laugh,_

Peter is really funny.

Flash has always known this. If he were being honest he would say that Peter’s humor was the second thing that drew him to Peter, after his pretty eyes.

Flash is not honest, but Peter is still funny.

He’s pretty sure that no one else, save for perhaps Ned, notices this. Flash wonders if this is because they are so dedicated to their studies that they refuse to acknowledge any distractions, but he’s pretty sure it’s because they lack a sense of humor. Flash almost feels like he’s holding onto a secret, some special thing he and Peter share. Maybe they could share it if Flash sat in front of him in their classes rather than behind.

Chemistry with Ms. Ditko is no exception. Ms. Ditko is a tough teacher. Her class has a reputation of being the hardest in the school. It is 60% theory, 20% labs, and 20% lectures on proper etiquette. She’s taken Flash’s cellphone on numerous occasions, and woe be to anyone late to her class. Despite this, Flash likes her no-nonsense approach to science and students. She demands the best and often gets it.

Unfortunately, Peter often chooses her class to make jokes. It’s like he can’t help himself, like every time he gets nervous he starts joking. Judging by the way Peter’s back straightens when Ms. Ditko enters the classroom every day, he’s very nervous around her. Ms. Ditko likes Peter, and Flash suspects she understands his ticks, but she barely tolerates his joking. Flash is sure that Peter’s going to be in trouble next time he gets caught making a joke, but he can’t prove his theory. Also, Ms. Ditko doesn’t give detentions. Her punishments are more….creative. Like cleaning 100 test tubes by hand creative. Like calling Flash Eugene for a week.

Peter has two modes of humor: commentary and puns. On days where he has his internship, Peter is full of puns and witticisms. On the other days, Peter has a running commentary on their chemistry class. Flash wonders if it’s stress or if Tony Stark is influencing Peter’s style. Peter usually looks tired after his internships. Maybe that’s why he resorts to the jokes he decorates his t-shirts with.

Today is internship day. When Ms. Ditko starts talking about elements and Peter starts whipping out the jokes. When Ms. Ditko starts talking about chemical stability, Peter says “I always say you can’t trust atoms. They make up everything.” Flash chuckles despite himself. No one else does. Puns are so much funnier when Peter says them. Maybe it’s the lack of cartoon molecules that cover his t-shirts. Maybe it’s the delivery. Peter has a gift for sass and deadpan.

Ms. Ditko starts preparing them for their next lab, going through reactions and equations. She mentions problems with last year’s lab and Peter whispers, “Well, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate.” Flash has to hide his laughter with a cough. It seems to encourage Peter more.

They’re not talking, but Peter is fine with making him laugh. Whatever.

Ms. Ditko talks about their next unit, organic chemistry. She’s excited about it, which in Flash’s eyes is never a good sign. Peter says, “Well, I always said carbon is a girl’s best friend.”

Flash snickers.

“You made the same jokes last week,” Ned grumbles.

“I only change my jokes periodically, you know this,” Peter replies. Flash giggles.

“Don’t you know any better jokes?” Abraham whispers to Peter.

“I told you, man,” Peter says, “I just know bad jokes. All the good ones Argon.”

Flash can’t control it. He starts laughing. The whole class turns and looks at him. The teacher clears her throat.

“Is something funny, Mr. Thompson? Or did our resident class clown distract my students again?” Ms. Ditko shoots a knowing look in Peter’s direction. One more joke, Flash remembers.

“No, Ms. Ditko. I was just remembering a funny video I saw on Youtube. It was a cat riding a Roomba.” Flash adds a smile for good measure.

“And what does that have to do with chemistry?”

Flash drops the smile. “Nothing, mam. Nothing at all.”

“I suggest you spend more time studying and less time watching cat videos, Mr. Thompson.” Ms. Ditko turns back to her tablet and continues the lesson. Flash sighs and starts a fresh sheet in his notebook. Peter turns around, briefly. His mouth looks like it wants to form “thank you”, but something in him keeps his mouth shut. Instead, Peter just nods at him. Flash nods back, looking into Peter’s pretty eyes.

Peter still won’t talk to him.

Peter looks away first. 

 

****

 

_Even worse when you make me cry_

Flash’s dad is a big rock and roll fan. It’s his favorite thing about the States, he says. Dr. Thompson has been all over the world, studied in England, Germany, Taiwan and Australia, but he loves the USA the most. Best music, he says. Flash grew up listening to the classics, dancing to the Rolling Stones at midnight on New Years, being sung “Sweet Child O’ Mine as a lullaby. When school stresses him out his dad puts on his old records and they listen to them together. Flash has all his dad’s favorites on his ipod now so he can listen to them at school.

He sits in the stairwell and puts on Judas Priest, trying to do geometry. Free period is his one escape from Peter Parker, his stupid t-shirts and stupid eyes.

Peter still won’t talk to him.

MJ told him to stop being weird and fix whatever his “deal” was before their next decathlon meet, but he wouldn’t do it. He didn’t know if he could without punching him in the face, and he didn’t know why.

“Nightcrawler” roars through his ears as he tries to solve the Pythagorean theorem for yet another triangle. Flash manages to finish his worksheet as the song ends. He leans his head against the cool tile of the school wall and breathes. The song switches to “Estranged” by Guns N Roses. He almost changes it, but can’t make himself. He’s wearing a Guns N Roses t-shirt today. It just wouldn’t be right to skip the song.

Peter walks by, twirling his hall-pass. Flash curses and ducks into the stairwell, but Peter sees him and starts walking over. Flash tries to glare at Peter, but his face just won’t twist the way he wants it too. Peter sits beside him, slowly lowering himself to the floor and looking back like he expects Flash to leave.

Flash stays. He doesn’t know why.

They sit in silence for a moment. Flash pauses his song and glances over at Peter, who stares resolutely ahead. He rolls his eyes and pulls his headphones out, wrapping them around his phone and sticking it in his pocket. He doesn’t need this. He can go to the library.

Peter clears his throat. “We need to talk, Flash.”

“No, we don’t.” Flash stuffs his books into his bag.

“Please?” asks Peter, looking up at him with his pretty eyes. Flash stops and stares into them for a moment too long.

“Okay,” he says.

A silence stretches between them again. “I thought we were actually getting along,” Peter says, finally. “And I don’t know why you’re not talking to me anymore. I mean, I think I know, but...”

“What do you know, Parker?” Flash scoffs.

“You don’t hate me as much as you think you do. Or as much as I think you do.”

“You’re right.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to me?”

“If you know so much, you should know that,” Flash says. He hopes Peter doesn’t actually know. He doesn’t actually know. There’s no right answer, and Flash doesn’t like it.

“Because you’re ga---” Peter starts, then stops. He sighs. “Look, I have to go away for a week. For my internship.” Flash scoffs but Peter continues. “I just didn’t want to leave it like this, you know?”

Flash laughs bitterly. “Why does that even matter to you? It’s not like we’re friends.”

Peter looks away, clenching a fist. A shot of heat followed by a feeling of coldness settles into Flash’s stomach. He shifts, uncomfortable. If Peter knows so much about him, he should be able to see that he’s lying. Please, Flash thinks. Please.

“I thought...” Peter looks back at him, but Flash won’t meet his eyes. He stares at the floor. They’re too pretty. “Yeah, I guess we’re not then. You’re such a dick. You’re an arrogant dick, and I don’t know why I wasted my time.” Peter turns and starts to leave. Flash wants to call to him, beg him to stay, but he can’t make his mouth move, make his arms stretch. The coldness travels up his body. He sits, frozen.

Peter stops. Flash looks up, hopefully. Peter’s expression has shifted into a glare. “You know what, Flash? I liked you better when I knew you hated me.”

“I never hated you, I don’t hate you.” A truth.

“I’m not sure I don’t hate you.” Peter spits, before finally disappearing down the hall. Flash thinks he catches Peter wiping his eyes on his sleeves, but it could be a trick of the light.

Flash’s body thaws as he feels tears drip down his cheeks. He grabs his bag and runs for the parking lot, vision blurry and eyes burning. He vaguely hears someone ask what’s wrong, but ignores them. He’s not sure if they’re a student or a teacher, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him right now.

He throws open the car door and slams it shut, head falling against the steering wheel. It hurts. Everything hurts. Peter was supposed to be nice, he was supposed to be different. He’s a fucking liar, he has to be. Why else would he….

It doesn’t matter now. Peter probably won’t talk to him ever again. This realization prompts a fresh wave of tears. Peter hates him. Flash knows that this is entirely his fault and that just makes it hurt more. Between Peter and his car, Flash cannot seem to love something without breaking it or throwing it away.

He agrees with Peter about something, though. Things were much easier when Flash pretended to hate him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some laughs (maybe), some feels, and some sweet little dumb boys who don't know how to do emotions. It's like an early Christmas except with repression and also Spiderman. I promise, there will be a happy ending. 
> 
> Please don't kill me for the dumb puns. I love dumb puns. I can see Peter Parker being the sort of person to make dumb puns. I can also see this version of Peter being the type to eventually get fed up with Flash's nonsense.
> 
> This chapter brought to you by Woodkid's "I Love you" and Daughter's "Youth".


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash hates that Peter is gone, and when Stark Tower is attacked hates Tony Stark for putting Peter in danger. He hates that Peter won't call him back. He hates that he can't be friends with Peter, but maybe he should be something more. This isn't love, though. Probably. 
> 
> But mostly, Flash hates that he doesn't even hate Peter, not even a little, not even at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, now with actual stakes, some form of resolution and (barely mentioned) J. Jonah Jameson!

_I hate the way you're not around, and that you didn’t call_

 

Flash spends most of his classes staring at an empty seat. His teachers comment on it but he can’t bring himself to care. MJ calls this “pining” as she sketches him. He’s not in crisis, he tells her. She just smirks and continues. He considers asking her for one of her sketches of Peter, but he doesn’t. He wants to, but he doesn’t. Just like he wants to text Peter, but doesn’t.

It hurts Flash more than he wants to admit. He knows the old adage about how absence makes the heart grow fonder, but not seeing Peter is doing the opposite. Flash replays his fight with Peter at night when he tries to sleep. He thinks about it in class, staring at an empty chair. He can’t replace it with all the better moments of the last few months. His mind is not a difference engine, not a computer. It is a record player, filling his head with teary blue eyes and shaking lips.

Even Jesse’s started to notice that something’s up. She makes comments about Flash being distracted and asks if he’s okay. Flash just tells her that he’s stressed at school. She doesn’t believe him. She’s too smart for him. Flash usually sighs and tells her that he’s okay, really. Sometimes he just says that he got in a fight with his friend. Jesse smirks at that and leaves him alone. Flash isn’t sure whether he should be concerned that she knows so much without him telling her or thankful she doesn’t reject him outright,

Stark’s latest project is on the news constantly. Flash grits his teeth whenever he hears about it. Stark is keeping Peter away from him, and Flash can’t help but hate him. The only reason he keeps paying attention is that Spider-man is mentioned in most reports. Flash wonders if he could get Peter to get an autograph or t-shirt or something from him, but Flash’s fingers freeze over Peter’s name in his phone. Spider-man probably sees more of Peter than he does. Flash can’t hate Spidey, though.

No, absence isn’t making Flash love Peter more. It’s twisting his gut into something darker, and Flash isn’t sure he can fight it.

This isn’t love.

It’s not.

Probably.

***

 

Flash is idly answering chemistry problems when breaking news comes on. Stark tower is under attack.

Flash shoots off the couch and turns up the volume. Someone yells from upstairs but Flash doesn’t hear them. Villains stormed the place looking for Tony Stark, as usual. But this time, they took hostages. Flash holds his breath as they name the identified employees being held at gunpoint. His heart hammers in his chest, drowning out his thoughts. He barely hears them say “Peter Parker”. It’s like a bad dream. Flash swears, loudly. His mom scolds him from the top of the stairs but he doesn’t listen. It is only when the reporter says that Peter Parker escaped his captors by kicking one in the groin and running that he can breathe. Word is that Spider-man is already on the scene.

Flash grabs his phone and calls Peter. No answer. He isn’t surprised, but he leaves a frantic voicemail all the same, begging him to call him back.

“Honey, please turn that...” Flash’s mother’s voice dies as she enters the room. Flash knows what he must look like, wide red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands. “What’s wrong?”

“My friend works at Stark Tower. It’s been attacked.”

“Oh my god!” Flash’s mother joins him in front of the TV. “Is he okay? Was he taken hostage?”

“The news lady said he escaped.”

“Thank goodness.” Flash’s mother places a hand on his shoulder. “Your friend will probably be okay, Eugene. The Avengers are likely on their way.”

“Spider-man is already there.”

“Good!” Flash’s mother smiles. “That awful Jameson man is so wrong about him.”

“Yeah,” Flash says.

Flash’s mother strokes his hair. “Don’t worry, my dear. Your friend will be okay.”

Flash nods without looking at her. She sighs. “I know how scared you must be, Eugene. But you need to have hope, okay? It’s the only superpower we regular people have.”

Flash manages a smile as she leaves. Hope, huh. He can try hope. Like hoping Peter calls him back.

 

***

 

Flash doesn’t hear from Peter until he shows up at school, bruised black and blue. Flash had been nauseous since the attack and seeing Peter again didn’t help. The tightness in his chest from worry didn’t loosen, and he still felt a lingering sense of dread. Peter’s face was littered with bruises. He winced when he moved, and Flash with him.

Everyone crowds around Peter in first period, asking him a million questions. Half are variations of “are you okay” and half are rude and probably triggering. MJ scatters most of their peers with a scathing remark, and Ned tells the rest of them to be quiet. Peter’s eyes look haunted. They’re still pretty. Flash tries to get him to look over, but Peter won’t. His chest feels hot and tight and painful.

Flash waits until lunch to corner Peter, dragging him into an empty classroom by his shirt. Peter protests, weakly. Flash knows that Peter’s too drained to fight back.

“What the hell, Parker?” Flash slams a desk. Peter jumps.

“Flash, what are we doing in here?”

“You didn’t call me back. I left you a message, and…” Flash can’t find the words. He just stops, his shoulders slumping. He lets his hands fall to his side.

“I was in the hospital, I had to get stitches and I was on a bunch of pain meds. I was kind of out of it. Wait...were you worried about me?”

“No shit.” Flash snaps. “No, I drag everyone into empty classrooms to yell at them for not calling me back after being held hostage by supervillains. It’s my thing.”

“I thought...” Peter stops. “Never mind. I’m fine, Flash. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back, I meant to, but...”

“But what?”

“I...I didn’t know what to say.”

“I’m fine, Flash, how are you? See, was that hard?”

“It is when it’s us.”

Flash sighs. He leans back against a desk. “I know.”

“Yeah.” Peter looks away. They sit in silence.

“Do you hate me?” Flash asks, quietly.

Peter sighs. “No, I don’t.”

“I don’t hate you.”

“I know.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel about me?”

Flash sighs. “I don’t know, Peter. I just don’t know.”

Peter nods. “Okay.”

Flash looks up. “Okay?”

“Thanks for calling me, Flash. It was really nice of you, I’m glad you care if I got shot or something. But I don’t think I can be led along, you know? If you don’t know how you feel about me, I don’t know if we can be friends.”

Flash nods, fighting tears. His face burns. His chest hurts. Nothing feels good. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Peter watches him for a minute, with those pretty eyes. Flash tries to meet them, but can’t. Peter exhales, long and frustrated.

“I’ll see you around, Flash.”

Flash says nothing as Peter leaves the room. He can’t look up. He doesn’t want to see if Peter looked back. He knows he probably didn’t.

“Stay,” Flash says to an empty room. It echoes back to him. “Stay.”

Peter isn’t going to talk to him anymore, and the only word he wants to say is hanging in the silence of an empty classroom. Flash takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes, and leaves.

Flash doesn’t hate Peter. He knows that. If he hated him, losing him wouldn’t feel like this.

 

*****

 

_But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all._

 

Peter stands alone at homecoming. Flash watches him talk idly to Ned and MJ, make a joke with Abraham, and drink two glasses of punch. His suit is burgundy this year and his tie is black and gold. To Flash he looks like a model, or a Kingsmen, or something. His eyes are still pretty. Flash doesn’t hate him.

A whole month of dancing around each other has led to this moment. Awkward silences in class, weird exchanges at decathlon, and longing glances across the lunchroom. Flash thought that if his heart healed in that time he could get over Peter. But he can’t. He can’t cope with what was left unsaid. If the shot of vodka in the mildly spiked punch is what he needs to talk to Peter, then he’ll take it.

He got an A on his poetry paper, doing what Peter suggested. Peter smiled when Flash cheered out loud in class.

Peter goes out for air and Flash follows. This year he didn’t bring a date. He doesn’t have time for girls, he tells his parents. He tells himself he’s not pining. It’s not fair, he knows, to string someone along when you’re into someone else.

He’s into Peter Parker, and Peter Parker is not into him.

Flash isn’t hurt. It doesn’t matter.

Peter walks to the edge of the stairs and stops. He doesn’t look behind him. Flash tries to say “hello” at the very least but no words come out. Maybe this is wrong, and this...thing is supposed to stay unrequited. Flash is pretty sure he wasn’t seen and tries to go back inside. Peter looks too pretty out here, under the lights of New York City and the perfect summer moon. Flash can’t look at him any longer.

“Wait,” Peter calls out, turning around.

Flash almost goes back inside. “What?” He asks.

“I want to...never mind.” Peter sighs. “Enjoy the dance, Flash. You’ve earned it.”

Flash storms over to Peter and barely resists grabbing him by the lapels. “What do you want, Peter?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says. “I didn’t mean to...I liked being your friend. You’re funny and smart and I guess I thought you weren’t going to like me at all? I guess I didn’t know that you were going to be mad if I told you I knew how you felt, but then you were, I thought you’d just laugh at me, and you didn’t, but I didn’t mean to...”

“Shut up, Parker.” Flash sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “You’re always apologizing for everything. This is my fault.”

“I don’t know what I did to make you hate me,” Peter’s voice cracks.

Flash feels his heart shatter. His chest tightens and he can barely breathe. “I don’t hate you,” Flash whispers. “I never did.”

“Okay,” Peter breathes, but Flash isn’t done.

“But I do hate you.”

“What?” Peter sputters. “Now I’m lost.”

Flash takes a deep breath and starts talking. “I hate that you don’t talk to me, I hate your stupid eyes and your stupid hair, I hate how smart you are and I hate how you open up to me for no reason and I hate that you see things about me that I don’t want you to and I hate that I love you so much and I can’t….” Peter stares at him, mouth gaping just a little bit and struggling to appear polite. Flash tries to break the tension with a joke. “I hate it when you stare at me.” Peter doesn’t smile. “I’m just, uh, going to go now….”

“Flash, please don’t go.” Flash freezes when Peter reaches for him. Instead of the shoulder, Peter goes for the hand. “Stay.” Flash’s body shakes. Suddenly they’re so close, but too far away. Flash can feel how warm Peter’s body is. His heart beats in his throat. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I mean, I knew you liked liked me, but I didn’t….”

“Well, I don’t like you, Peter.” Flash won’t look at him. “I love you.”

“Why?” Peter asks in disbelief. “You’re Flash Thompson. You’re smart and witty and really hot. Like, really hot. I’m “Penis Parker.””

“No, you’re Peter.” Flash takes a deep breath before wrapping his arm around Peter, pulling him in. “You’re Perfect Parker.” He realises how cheesy his words are as soon as they leave his mouth, but Peter is smiling at him and it doesn’t matter. Peter likes cheesy stuff. He likes puns and rock music and poetry. He likes Flash.

“Can I touch your hair?” Flash asks. Peter takes one of his hands and puts it in his hair, leaning into the touch. It is soft. So very soft. Flash pets Peter’s head until his hair is flat. Peter musses Flash's black waves and he can’t stop smiling.

“We’re terrible,” he laughs, “we’re like weird hair freaks or something.”

“Yeah, but we’re the best kind of freaks,” Peter says, looking up into Flash’s eyes. His eyes are so pretty.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” Peter leans forward and presses his lips to Flash’s, tentatively like he does everything for the first time. Flash pulls him closer and wraps his arms around him.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Flash says into Peter’s lips.

“Then don’t,” Peter says. “Never let me go.”

“I can’t promise I won’t be a jackass,” Flash admits.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Peter stares up into Flash’s eyes. His eyes shine in the bright lights and Flash can’t help but compare them to stars. “I love you too, Flash. I love you too.”

Flash pulls Peter to him and kisses him, full and passionate. Peter leans into the kiss. Flash swears that Peter swoons into his arms and Flash’s knees go weak. He tries to hold them both up but they stumble, breaking the kiss and laughing.

“We’re both total messes,” Flash nuzzles his nose against Peter’s. “We’re just disasters waiting to happen.”

“Then why wait?” Peter says. He reaches down and grabs Flash’s hand.

“Yeah,” Flash says, smiling, “why wait? You might decide you hate me after all.”

“I can’t hate you, Flash.” Peter links their arms. “And I don’t think I ever will.”

Flash Thompson loves Peter Parker. He loves how Peter makes his knees go wobbly, how he whips his insides into a woozy frenzy, and he loves how Peter accepts him without question. The only parts of any of this he hates, he realizes, is that it took him so damn long to have it and that he almost screwed it up.

Peter’s eyes are still pretty, perhaps the prettiest they’ve ever been, staring into Flash’s like he was the most important thing in the universe, like stars colliding, like poetry.

 

Yeah, like poetry.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you, my friendly neighbourhood readers, for all the love you've been giving this fanfiction. I'm happy I got to entertain you.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think Flash had siblings in the comics, but guess what, he does now.
> 
> Update: my kind commenters pointed out that Flash does indeed have a sister in the comics (I was more of an X-men gal so I missed that) so guess what? Now Flash has two siblings! Yay!


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